The Company of the Ring
by Jhaia
Summary: A chance, and a jumpy hobbit, cause to Thorin witness Bilbo using the ring, something which he supports until the true nature of the Ring is accidentally revealed. Will the Company continue onward to Erebor or undertake a more dangerous quest?
1. Jumpy Hobbits and Coincidences

**Another kink-meme fill. **

**This is going to be me pouring book and movie canon together and stirring it around. A lot. Also, while most of the history here is canon the fact that the Necromancer is Sauron was actually discovered about a hundred years before the quest and Sauron was driven out the year of. Saruman not believing that shit is going down/covering for Sauron at that point in time is a movie thing (although he did actually do that) but I'm running with it because reasons.**

**Some scenes and lines take heavy inspiration from both LOTR and The Hobbit. Anything you recognise from the books is not mine.**

* * *

He was not supposed to be the only one on watch. Bombur was supposed to be there with him but the dwarf had drifted off and Bilbo himself was yawning. Despite the recent events Gandalf had been pushing them hard to get somewhere (or rather, to somebody) and the entire company was exhausted, especially as nearly all of their supplies had been lost somewhere between the mountains, the goblins and the wargs so they were marching on little food.

Bilbo stood at the edge of the camp, looking outwards. The light of the little low fire that was still burning cast shadows and he had one hand on his sword hilt. His other hand was turning the ring over and over and running a thumb over its smooth contours. He hadn't had time to really look at it since he'd had the luck to pick it up. Now at least he stood a chance if he should be asked to burgle something, an invisible thief would be impossible to spot if he was as quiet as a hobbit.

* * *

Thorin could not sleep. He hadn't said anything of it but the pain from being thrown around by Azog's warg was considerable - even to a dwarf. The pace Gandalf insisted on was not helping. It made it impossible to get comfortable on the ground and, since he was awake, the snores of his companions and the hobbit's constant yawning were irritating. Giving up entirely on sleep he got to his feet as quietly and painlessly as possible, intending on relieving their hobbit of his watch - _somebody_ should benefit from his sleeplessness.

To his surprise the hobbit didn't turn around as he approached, too busy staring down at something in his hands. He coughed as he got closer and the hobbit jumped a foot in the air and disappeared from sight. Thorin stared.

"Oh," came a voice from nowhere, "it's only you." And a second later Bilbo reappeared.

"What was that?" Thorin asked.

"I...erm...you see," Bilbo stuttered, wishing he could just put the ring on again and disappear. Thorin simply continued looking at him. And the whole story of his adventure in the caves came tumbling out. Finding the ring, Gollum, the riddle game (which caused Thorin to raise his eyebrows), finding out what the ring did, catching up to them, the whole thing.

"Well that certainly explains how you managed to escape the goblins," Thorin said, once he was finished. "May I have a look at the ring."

With a strange reluctance Bilbo handed the ring over, it looked delicate and small in Thorin's larger hands. Momentarily the thought of how the ring had managed to fit on Gollum's spidery fingers when it was clearly made for a hobbit hand crossed his mind, but then Thorin began speaking.

"This was forged long ago," Thorin said, "but it is not of dwarf make so I cannot tell you much more. Still, many rings of some little power were made in that time, this seems to be no more than one of them if it does only what you say. Keep it, and may it get you out of more trouble." He handed the ring back to Bilbo. "It may be wise to speak of it to the wizard, if he does not already know of it."

"I'll do that," a ring of invisibility was all well and good but he hadn't considered that it might be anything more. Magic was magic, wasn't it?

"Go and get some sleep," Thorin said, "I'll take your watch." Bilbo was not going to argue with that and darted over to his makeshift bedroll and was asleep within minutes.

As the night moved on Thorin considered the hobbit and his ring of invisibility. He'd heard of the great rings, the seven rings given to the dwarves – like the ring Thror had worn which had thereafter passed to Thrain but had been lost with his father - but never had he heard that they conferred invisibility upon the bearer.

* * *

Bilbo meant to speak to Gandalf about the ring early the next day but the wizard had gone ahead before he woke up. There had been instructions left with Thorin as to which direction to continue in and that the wizard would return before sundown.

The dwarves took a somewhat more leisurely pace without Gandalf there, conscious that they were all tired and hungry and, in some cases, injured. There had been neither sight nor sound of Azog's orcs and the eagles had taken them at least a day's journey ahead, but they still had to keep up the pace since the orcs could travel quickly by night even if they had to hide during the day. Still, the walking made Bilbo worry less. He hoped he could speak to Gandalf privately about the ring, he'd wanted to keep it from the rest of the company – it would be nice to be thought of as a competent burglar, even if it was only because of the ring. It was comforting...if that was the right word, to have Thorin approve of him...of his use of the ring. After the various comments about his competency as a burglar he wasn't sure if the dwarves would see the ring as cheating.

Gandalf, as it turned out, returned before sunset with news both good and ill

"I have found you lodgings for tonight at least and maybe a little longer," Gandalf said, "you can rest in safety and resupply before you reach Mirkwood."

"Surely you mean 'we', Mr. Gandalf," Dori said.

"No, I do not," Gandalf said, "I meant to get you over the mountains and that I have done, in a fashion. I am much further east than I ever meant to come with you, for I have some other pressing business to attend to. I may look in on you before this adventure is over, but this was never **my** adventure to have. I will go with you a little further, to the lodgings I mentioned, but then I must leave."

Bilbo wasn't the only one who protested at that, but the hobbit was the most vocal. After all, he was the one who seemed to get into the most trouble when Gandalf wasn't around. The trolls, the stone giants, the goblins and Gollum had all happened when Gandalf wasn't there. The only one who was silent was Thorin, and Bilbo looked at him curiously while the other dwarves tried to promise Gandalf a share in the gold when they reclaimed it. Surely Thorin would know best of all of them that there was no way they could defeat a dragon without a wizard. Instead Thorin simply looked more solemn and held up a hand for silence, grumbling the dwarves stopped their protestations.

"Thank you Thorin," Gandalf said. "Now, we must head onwards to reach the lodgings before sundown."

They had to ford a river, which was fine for Gandalf and all well and good for the dwarves – since the shallower ford only came up to the chests of the dwarves, maybe a little higher at some of the lower points – but Bilbo was neck deep in the water for the most part and had to keep one hand in his pocket at all times for fear of losing the ring. Fili and Kili had all but plunged into the water, prompting some muttering from the older dwarves who seemed as reluctant as Bilbo to go into the water. Gandalf had proceeded next, since the water came to his waist and did not seem to bother him. Slowly the dwarves had shuffled their way across the water and Bilbo, who (despite an adventurous childhood) could not swim, had to follow. Fortunately Bofur, who was in front of Bilbo, did not mind the hobbit clinging on to the back of his coat and Thorin, who Bilbo found out was behind him, caught him when he slipped and half drowned himself and shoved him back upright. Bilbo was half expecting a comment about that but by the time everybody was safely across, they'd all forgotten about the incident.

Although all anybody wanted to do was lay down and dry off, Gandalf insisted that they keep going. There, at least, Bilbo had some advantage since he was not wearing shoes and his feet dried much quicker than the dwarves boots so he did not have to squelch the whole way until Gandalf held up a hand and they stopped. They'd begun passing huge patches of flowers earlier in the day, patches which reminded Bilbo of his own little garden – although on a much grander scale, since the different types of clovers all looked like they had been planted. Bees buzzed through the air, bees bigger than hornets. It was only when they'd come to an nigh-impenetrable belt of oak trees and a high thorny hedge beyond them that Gandalf had stopped them.

"Now I shall introduce you to your host, but since there are so many of you and he is unaccustomed to guests you had better come two at a time at five minute intervals," said Gandalf, then he turned to Bilbo. "Come along Bilbo, there's a gate around here somewhere."

There was a gate, a huge wooden affair, but beyond that Bilbo almost thought he was back in the Shire's farmlands. He had to trot to keep up with Gandalf as they approached a huge wooden house. Outside it a man was standing, he looked to be about the normal height for Big People until they got closer and Bilbo discovered that he was much bigger. He towered above Gandalf and Bilbo only came up to just above his knees.

"Who are you," demanded the man, "and what do you want."

"I am Gandalf," said the wizard.

"And who's this," the man said, bending down to peer at Bilbo.

"This is Bilbo Baggins, a hobbit of the Shire." The man seemed to mull that over and Gandalf continued, "and I am a wizard. You know my cousin Radagast, who lives in Mirkwood, it was he who told me of you, Beorn."

"Radagast you say," Beorn said, "not a bad fellow, as wizards go, passed by here a few days ago."

"Indeed," said Gandalf.

"What is it you want?" said Beorn, gruffly.

"Your aid, and some shelter. We, that is to say the company I am travelling with, lost our ponies and nearly lost our lives after a rather bad time with goblins and orcs in the mountains." "Goblins _and_ orcs?" Beorn said, in the least threatening tone he had used, "what ever were you doing near them?"

"For the goblins, we did not mean to cross their path, but for the orcs – well that's a longer tale." Gandalf said.

"Then by all means, come inside and tell it," Beorn said.

Eventually Gandalf had told the whole tale, though much of the early part of it was punctuated by the comings of the dwarves (and for some parts thereafter, especially those for which Gandalf had not been present, there were some interjections by the dwarves) until all fifteen members of the company and Beorn were sitting around the table while Gandalf finished the tale with their fortunately timed rescue by the eagles. The sun was dimming and shadows were falling.

"Well that was a fine tale," Beorn said, "the finest I've heard in a long while. You may be making all of it up, but it certainly deserves supper."

He stood up from the table and clapped his hands, Bilbo was not the only one to goggle openly as Beorn's ponies and dogs and sheep made quick work of setting out torches and bringing plates and cutlery to the table. Though the meal contained no meat the dwarves and hobbit fell on it with great gusto. It was Beorn's turn to tell them tales of the forest which barred their way east – Mirkwood that had once been Greenwood the great.

By the time their meal was finished true night had fallen and the animals, at Beorn's call, came in to remove the plates and light the fire pit that was in the centre of the house – which was much bigger than it had first appeared. Beorn excused himself outside and the company found that beds had been laid out for them, only straw mattresses and blankets but better than the hard ground with only their clothes to keep them warm. Though they all were replete and somewhat dozy from the meal, they sat around the fire and Balin told some of the dwarvish legends.

Bilbo had contrived to sit next to Gandalf, hoping to strike up a conversation and mention the ring (especially now he knew that Gandalf would be leaving hem) but with Balin's storytelling, he could not. It was not until the story was over and the dwarves began talking amongst themselves or heading off to bed that Bilbo managed it.

"Gandalf," he said.

"Yes Bilbo," the wizard said.

"I wanted to talk to you about...well about how I escaped from the goblin cave," Bilbo said, once again removing the ring from his pocket and turning it over and over between his fingers.

"Indeed," said Gandalf.

Once again Bilbo told the tale of how he'd fallen and found a ring and then subsequently found out what it could do and escaped.

"I mean, Thorin said it probably wasn't much, but I thought I ought to check." Bilbo finished.

"Well that's quite an adventure," said Gandalf, "will you show me the ring you spoke of."

Bilbo attempted to flip the ring into the air and catch it to show Gandalf, in his mind it looked rather impressive, except that he fumbled the catch and the ring went into the fire.

"Bother." Bilbo said vehemently, looking around for a poker or tongs to get at it.

Thorin, who had been sitting close enough to hear the tale over again, appeared at Bilbo's shoulder and quickly reached into the fire to pick it out. Bilbo gasped but Thorin's hand was unburnt as he dropped the ring onto the flat top of his other gauntlet to let it cool.

Dwarf, hobbit and wizard watched as, slowly, a fiery script began to make itself known around the band of the ring.

* * *

**More of this will be coming. I have another 10 and a bit thousand words already up on AO3 so I'll update this weekly until that's played out and then hopefully regularly thereafter.**

**Reviews are always appreciated.**


	2. Rings and Journeys

**This is posted a little ahead of when I intended but I updated the story on AO3 today and so I figured I should do the same on here. That's a less than subtle hint (if you want to read 'ahead' then my AO3 username is on my profile - kudos and comments would be appreciated).**

**Thanks for the reviews, favs and alerts. **

**Again. Parts of this are borrowed from LOTR and The Hobbit.**

* * *

"That is not any language I know," Thorin said.

"Nor is it one you should," Gandalf said, looking grim, "though the letters are Elvish the language is that of Mordor. I will not utter it's true form here but in the Common Tongue it says _'One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them'_, two lines of a verse of Elven-lore.

_Three Rings for Elven-kings under the sky,_

_Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,_

_Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,_

_One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne_

_In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie_

_One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them_

_One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them_

_In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie._

This is the One Ring that was thought lost."

Bilbo noticed that the dwarves who had gone to bed had all been roused and the whole company sat around the fire, staring at the ring which lay – quite harmless – on Thorin's arm guard. Thorin sat down, but allowed the ring to remain sitting on his arm guard since neither Bilbo nor Gandalf made a move to take it.

"What's that mean?" Ori asked.

"Long before Erebor was founded, when Durin's folk lived peacefully in Moria, the Elvish settlement of Eregion was right outside the walls of Moria. Elves and Dwarves traded peacefully," there was much scoffing at that, but Gandalf simply spoke over it, "and the Elvish smiths there were famed. It was then that Sauron the deceiver, disguised in a fair form and calling himself Annatar, the Lord of Gifts, came to Eregion. There he laboured with Celebrimbor, the grandson of Fëanor and the other craftsmen of Eregion, who began to create Rings of Power. Sixteen of these unknowingly had Sauron's influence. Nine of these rings were given to great mortal kings and seven to worthy dwarf lords. Sauron's purpose in doing so was to control these ring bearers. Swiftly the nine kings of men fell under Sauron's power but the dwarf lords endured and would not fall," that prompted cheering, which only quieted under the combined glares of Thorin and Gandalf, "but unknown to Sauron, Celebrimbor forged three rings that were hidden from his influence. These were given to the elves. Sauron did not give up and instead he forged one ring to rule all the others, a ring into which he poured much of his own spirit. Enough that, even when he was slain by Isildur, he lived on because Isildur took the ring. Long has it passed out of sight and many thought it lost and Sauron truly dead."

"And then our hobbit finds it on the floor of a goblin cave," Thorin finished.

"It would appear so. This ring has much greater power than simple invisibility. My dear Bilbo, your fumble may yet save thousands of lives."

"How do you mean?" Bilbo said.

"I may have been able to read the words on the ring once they were visible, but I would not have known how to make them so – nor, I think, would any other of the wizards or the elf lords who walk this earth today. If you had not slipped and the ring had not fallen into the fire I would have supposed the same as Thorin and Sauron's power would have been allowed to grow. This is the final piece. The blade that Radagast brought from Dol Guldur was not of this world, Dol Guldur has long been a fortress of Sauron though it is but a ruin now. If Sauron is still alive then his servants, the Ringwraiths – the spirits of the nine kings of men enslaved to Sauron – are not destroyed, as was thought, but simply in hiding with their master. The unusual activity of trolls, orcs and wargs crossing the Bruinen is testament to Sauron's growing power. There is a difficult choice for this company. To continue onwards to Erebor and Smaug or to abandon that quest in favour of another. To take this ring to the only place in Middle Earth where it may be destroyed."

"And where is that?" Thorin asked.

"Mount Doom in Mordor," said Gandalf. He looked around at the dwarves, who were all in various states of shock, and at Bilbo who was just about clinging to consciousness. "But it is late, or else early, and this is not a decision to be made lightly. Go to bed. Bilbo, take the ring back from Thorin."

"But why can't you take it?" Bilbo said.

"I already bear one ring. Bearing two is not permitted and I fear that if I should take the ring then it might wake. In Gollum's company and in yours it is asleep, so long as it remains that way you may touch it with ease – though I would not have you use it save in the last depths of despair. Even Thorin taking it is a risk, for his father and grandfather both bore one of the seven."

Bilbo flexed his fingers and quickly snatched up the ring from where it lay on Thorin's arm, dropping it in his pocket as quickly as possible. It didn't seem any different than it had before he knew what it was, it was no heavier, but it felt different somehow. He wasn't sure if it was because he knew now that it was evil rather than just a useful tool or if it had woken up.

The three of them proceeded to bed. Beorn's animals had managed to lay out a mattress that was indisputably for Gandalf close to the fire, indisputable because it was nearly twice the size of the other pallets, but the other dwarves had graciously left the two normal mattresses closest to the fire open for Thorin and Bilbo.

Despite the exertions of the day and the terror and excitement of the night Bilbo was having trouble getting to sleep, knowing that he had an evil dark lord's soul in his pocket.

Eventually Bilbo fell into an uneasy and not at all restful sleep, only to be awoken by Beorn coming in. Feeling not at all himself, and wishing he could leave the ring under his mattress or else in some other place so he didn't have to carry it, Bilbo got up – maybe some breakfast would make him feel a little better.

Gandalf was already awake and sitting at the table. Bilbo hopped, for it was a goodly hop to get on the bench and his feet dangled awkwardly, on to the bench next to the wizard. He thought about asking if this was real, if it wasn't just some horrible dream he'd had because he'd drowned or something, the ring he'd picked up on a whim couldn't be one forged by some evil so great and so dark he couldn't really comprehend it. That Gandalf wasn't about to ask, or strongly suggest, that Thorin and the company abandon trying get their home back because of something he'd done. They'd barely accepted him as it was, they'd hate him if his finding this ring meant they lost their home. He should have just left the damned thing lying on the ground in that cave.

Beorn seemed in a good mood, his animals at his heels bringing breakfast as the dwarves - one by one - came to the breakfast table. Their expressions were all grim, and Bilbo couldn't meet their eyes.

"That story you told, Gandalf," Beorn said, "I liked it much last night but I like it still better this morning, for now I know it to be true."

It transpired, and Bilbo became very glad of Beorn's good humour for the large man spoke at length, that Beorn had changed shape into a bear (which Gandalf assured the dwarves he _had_ mentioned to them but they all swore he had not) and headed back across the river and up towards the mountain when he had run straight into Azog and the rest of his orc pack. He had not managed to capture nor kill Azog but as a great, tireless bear, he had chased down one warg rider to question and run the others off. That rider had confirmed much of the story but Beorn had had to grab a goblin sentry to confirm the rest of it. He was mightily proud of the orc and goblin heads which adorned his gate and the warg skin nailed to a tree. It was only after he had finished telling the tale that he seemed to notice the solemn mood which hung over the rest of the company.

"I thought this news would be greeted with celebration. Your enemy is driven far behind you, though wargs move swifter than ponies, I am resolved to give you food and mounts for your quest onwards and hereafter I shall think better of any dwarf I see knowing what you have done," Beorn said, looking around at all of them. "What is it that so troubles you all?"

There were some shared glances between the dwarves but then Gandalf spoke, outlining quite generally what it was that Bilbo had found and what it meant. Beorn's expression likewise turned grim.

"And what do you propose to do about this?" Beorn said.

"That we have not decided," Thorin said.

"You must do so forthwith," said Beorn, "for I do not want that thing within my lands any longer than it has to be." With that, he left the hall.

"Now it comes to it," Gandalf said, "we must decide what to do."

"We, Gandalf?" Dwalin said, "I thought you were leaving us."

"And indeed I was, but with this…new development, no matter what course you decide I shall go with the ring at least until we have passed through Mirkwood. For if it is truly Sauron within the fortress at Dol Guldur, I do not know how far his reach has spread and if his mind would seek it out." Gandalf said.

"Very well," said Thorin, "we know what you would council us, wizard. To delay our return to Erebor and go instead to Mordor to destroy this ring. What do the rest of the company say?"

"Could we not go first to Erebor and, once that is reclaimed, go forth from there to Mordor with a greater strength?" Balin suggested.

"Erebor has been inhabited by a dragon for one hundred and seventy one years," Gandalf said, "returning it to rights and building it back to its former glory will not be a swift undertaking. One that is perhaps better suited to times of peace."

"If Sauron is growing as powerful as you say," Dori said, "what is to stop him from using Smaug?"

"That is precisely the reason I would have us set out now. Curtail Sauron's power before he has the chance to do just that. The reappearance of the One Ring will convince those who had thought, or wished, Sauron destroyed that he not yet dead. I believe they can hold his power back until the Ring can be destroyed. Besides, Sauron would have to have much more power than he does now to convince a dragon to leave such a hoard." That was not well received.

Bifur said something in Khuzdul which made the dwarves nod.

"Because if Sauron returns to his full power while you sit in your mountain, he will not leave you be." Gandalf boomed. "He may attack the strongholds of Men and Elves first, but eventually his eye will turn to the Iron Hills, to Erebor and to the Blue Mountains as the last of the free folk. If you wait and Sauron is returned to his strength then Durin's Bane will not be an idle legend."

Bilbo was liking this less and less. He did not much like being in the middle of an argument, quite literally in this case, especially over something he had caused. He couldn't even put on his ring and leave because it was evil. Instead he tried to make himself as small and unnoticeable as possible and hope everybody ignored him. Which they mostly seemed happy to do, as the discussion became louder. He didn't even know what outcome he wanted it to be, unless somebody was going to offer to take the ring off of him before they journeyed to Mordor (wherever that was). Gandalf wouldn't take it off him and none of the other dwarves seemed like they were about to offer to take the ring - then again, was it really their problem, he'd been the one to pick it up.

The argument continued long after breakfast was finished and cleaned away. He couldn't blame them for not wanting to come, he didn't particularly want to go. It was the right thing to do, destroy evil, but that didn't mean he wanted to march into Mordor and drop the ring in Mount Doom. He noticed that it mostly seemed to be the older dwarves, the ones with more connections to Erebor, who were speaking - Fili and Kili in particular seemed to be keeping quiet. Gandalf did seem to be swaying some of them as the argument quieted but Thorin and Balin seemed to be standing firm that the quest to Erebor was paramount and they could always go to Mordor later.

"Then let the company vote on it." Thorin said with an air of finality, looking around. Gandalf agreed that that was fair.

The votes were cast and Bilbo was a little surprised when he was included. He had to remind himself more than once that destroying the ring was the right thing to do, bigger evil and all that, and how strange had his life become when going to fight a dragon became the easy choice. Maybe he regretted his decision a little more when they reached the seventh vote for going to Mordor because Bilbo got a good look at Thorin's face and how it crumpled just a little bit before the dwarf king could control it. Thorin had been waiting a hundred and something years to get his home back and he, Bilbo, had accidentally broken that dream. In the end, despite the loyalty they owed to Thorin, there were only three hold-outs and nine were in favour of going.

"That is settled then," Thorin said, voice not shaking an iota, "we go to Mordor."

* * *

**Dun dun dun.**

**Again, reviews are always appreciated.**


	3. To Lothlorien

**Sorry about the slight delay, I was fighting with the newest chapter of this. The next one should come out quicker.**

**If there are any horse errors then I apologize, but they are Beorn's ponies which means they are special which means I can handwave things. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

**And if you can guess who the archers at the end are, you get a virtual cookie.**

* * *

Bilbo was glad it was over, if only because it meant he could finally get down from the table, except Gandalf stopped him. "If you're to take the ring safely to Mordor, it ought to be somewhere more secure than your pocket," the wizard said, Bilbo winced a little - he didn't want to anchor this thing to him any more permanently - but he accepted the finely made chain that Gandalf gave him. It was finer quality than anything he'd seen in the Shire so he guessed it was dwarven made. He wondered which of the company had given up one more thing to the quest. Resignedly he took the ring from his pocket to thread it through the chain, handling it as little as possible with only his fingertips, and closed the clasp of the chain around his neck. It felt more like the click of fetters closing around wrists than it ought and the ring was heavier than it had been in his pocket.

The entire party was very quiet and spread out within the hall. Thorin had gone somewhere by himself but even the rest of the dwarves were only sitting in small groups, at least until Beorn returned. The giant man spoke quietly to Gandalf alone, to Bilbo's utter relief, and then left again. Lunch was an awkward affair, eaten where they were sitting and with very little of the relief or merriment that had been present at the previous meals.

With nothing else to do and not really daring to speak to the dwarves, Bilbo turned his attention to his mending. He didn't have any buttons to fix his ruined waistcoat but all his clothing was in need of mending by this point and he spent a boring enough afternoon trying not to think about what was ahead and stabbing his fingers with the too-big needle and thread that one of Beorn's dogs had brought him when he'd asked.

Supper was taken at the table so they all had to be sociable and sit at the table. "Tomorrow you shall leave," Beorn boomed, "with provisions enough to last you a good long while and ponies." There was a general thanking of Beorn, though it was rather lacklustre. Gandalf had not spoken of what road they were to be taking to Mordor and Bilbo wasn't entirely sure where Mordor was, Thorin's map had only shown the Lonely Mountain, nothing further south than that.

The next morning dawned early and bright. Beorn roused them as soon as he came into the house and as soon as they'd rubbed the sleep out of their eyes they could see fifteen packs sitting neatly in a row, thirteen of roughly equal size but one was smaller and another larger. They were allowed one final, quick, breakfast before Beorn led them outside where fourteen ponies and a horse stood waiting. They were sturdier than their previous ponies, and regarded them with eyes that were more intelligent as well. There was a general ruckus amongst most of the company, deciding who would get which pony after Thorin had chosen his and settling their packs on them. "What about the orcs following us?" Bilbo asked Gandalf, quietly. Beorn obviously heard what he said and, to Bilbo's mortification, replied in his great, loud voice, "No orc would dare to cross the Great River for a hundred miles north of my house, nor come anywhere near it. Orcs are not overfond of water and there are few fords south of here which Men would cross until the woods of Lothlorien. The ponies will stay with you as long for as long as you can ride them but when you reach Lorien, you must allow them to leave."  
The company agreed and soon they were off. Heading southwards instead of towards Mirkwood, but the tree line was not so very far off. Occasionally Bilbo would catch Thorin looking wistfully westwards as the far-off shadow of the mountain passed out of sight.

As soon as they were a ways away from Beorn's lands, Thorin turned to Gandalf.

"Lorien, Gandalf. More elves?"

"Yes, Lorien," the wizard said, "Sauron needs to be found out and fought, but if I am to continue on the quest with you then others must do it. The Lady Galadriel can call a council where we can present the ring and make others aware of his presence. She can also provide the company with boats," that caused some grumbling within the company and even Bilbo was nervous - he'd never been boating, "which will take us closer to our destination with greater speed."

They kicked their ponies to go a little faster when far-off warg howls could be heard.

"How far's Lorien?" Fili asked.

"From here, it is some 200 miles, but these are Beorn's ponies. It should only take us a week or so to get there."

"At least we've woods to take cover in, if needs be," Gloin said.

Gandalf made a noise that could have been either approval or disapproval and kicked his horse towards the front of the string of ponies.

Despite having never ridden before going on this adventure Bilbo couldn't help but be glad that they had ponies once again, even after the two days of rest at Beorn's house he was still aching from his fall within the mountain and the battle shortly afterwards. This pony wasn't quite Myrtle, but he..she…it didn't seem to be trying to take advantage of its novice rider. He was fairly sure they were making good timing, although he couldn't be certain and he wasn't entirely sure what 'making good time' was when on a pony, but still. Hopefully this time they wouldn't have to worry about the ponies being eaten by trolls or chased away by wargs while they slept. No, if they were going to be chased by wargs, Bilbo rather hoped that they were i on/i the ponies when that happened. Azog was all the more worrying now, if they got captured and the ring was discovered how long would it take an orc to work out what the ring did or for Sauron to find it and the world to end (or whatever it was that was so bad that would happen if Sauron got power again), not that it would be of much consequence to him since he would likely be dead.

At least being on the road again had one positive effect. Even if they weren't heading quite in the direction they had planned the company did have to start talking to one another again and the general mood raised a little, apart from Thorin. Bilbo had been trying to avoid contact with the company's leader, no longer because he was afraid the dwarf leader would disapprove of him but because he wondered if Thorin didn't blame him for taking them so far away from his home. Durin's Day was drawing closer and once that passed they'd have to wait a whole year before there was a chance of getting into the mountain again. It was little comfort that he was mostly avoiding the rest of the company as much as he could as well.

"Don't fret master hobbit," Bofur said, drawing up next to Bilbo, "he'll come around."

* * *

The first three days of their travels southwards had been quite uneventful, sleeping in the lee of the tree line and with everybody on a more careful watch. More than one of those watching at night had spotted, or thought they had spotted, an overlarge bear following them.

"That is Beorn," Gandalf had said matter-of-factly, when he was asked about it, "he means us no harm but he will make sure we keep our promise regarding the ponies. Though it is unusual for him to venture so far south."

Having a giant, who could also turn into a bear, following them was a boon and a curse. Gandalf had explained that Beorn would not suffer animals to be killed, even for food, which meant no meat (even if any animals would come near the trail of a giant bear) but they had an ally within shouting distance if it became necessary. The foodstuffs Beorn had given them were not in any way lacking, the nuts, flour, dried fruit, honey and twice-baked cakes were all very tasty and they would last the company for weeks with some care, simply that the dwarves rather enjoyed meat.

The dusting of low scrub which covered the mostly flat stretch from the river to the trees didn't make for very good cover but it was far more comfortable outdoor bedding than they'd found since they had hit the mountains. The ponies were turned out to graze at night and it was that much easier to keep an eye on them, though with their exposed position no fires had been lit. Fortunately it was still the last days of Afterlithe (if Bilbo had got his days right, it might have been early Wedmath already) so it was no hardship to sleep outside, even with few enough blankets.

It was much harder to ignore one another when the entire company was travelling together. Balin and Dwalin, the other two hold outs for going to Erebor first, had both spoken to Bilbo in passing without any sort of recrimination for being the cause of this whole thing. He had yet to speak to Thorin, but that might have been his own cowardice since the dwarf king had spoken to the rest of the company. The cause of the whole thing was still sitting, quite harmlessly, strung around Bilbo's neck and it hadn't gotten heavier or exhibited any signs of waking up that he could discern - which he was grateful for, he didn't think he could fight the soul of some powerful dark lord.

Nevertheless, as they travelled south, the howls of wargs got closer and closer. On a normal day the river was out of their sights, but Bilbo could only hope that the wargs were still on the other side of it. It was the third night of travelling, just as they were all settling down to sleep - apart from Oin and Gloin who were on watch - when the warg howls could be heard especially close. They all sat up and the moon, which was large in the sky, could be seen in the distance glittering off the river and illuminating a host of dark figures on the other bank. One larger than the others, though it was impossible to tell for certain.

"Azog," Thorin hissed and the company hurriedly began gathering their belongings, unsure of how well - or even iif/i - they could be seen by the orcs, mounted up and headed off in a line at a canter keeping as close to the tree line as was possible.

Eventually they had to slow down for the sake of the ponies who had kept up the pace for longer than normal ponies could be expected to but who did, eventually, tire and need to be walked. Hoping they'd put enough distance between themselves and Azog the entire company dismounted and took their packs off of the ponies - they might need a burst of speed out of them if they weren't far enough ahead.

"I thought Beorn said he'd driven them off," Bilbo said, heart racing.

"And I don't doubt that he did," Gandalf said, "but they would have fled into the mountains where Beorn could not or would not follow so they could regroup. Wargs can travel farther and faster than almost any horse even if they had reason to be wary of Beorn."

"They can't cross the river, can they?" Ori asked.

"The further south we get, the less chance there is they will try and cross the Anduin," Gandalf said,

"That's not really an answer, Gandalf," said Nori.

"There are no fords southwards which orcs or wargs might cross" said Gandalf, "for they are too swift and too deep but there is an old ford which we passed some two days ago which they may chance, if they dare to get so close to Beorn's house. Our best hope is to press on southwards as fast as we may and hope that they are discovered."

"And if they don't cross the river," Dwalin said, "if they wait for us to cross over to them?"

"Though we cannot see it we should shortly come to the Gladden Fields, where the Gladden River joins the Anduin. The Gladden comes down from the mountains and is no small stream. If they wish to go around it they will have to go deep up into the mountains and come back down."

When they stopped walking altogether, as the sun crept over the trees and the not-so-distant mountains - which Bilbo had been informed were the mountains of Mirkwood - for a few moments making the forest not look quite so imposing, Thorin decided - and Gandalf quite agreed - that all of their belongings which were not vitally important could be left behind. If they were to be chased then they needed the ponies to be as light on their feet as possible. That held them up a while but when they departed it was with packs that were lighter than they had been.

A faster pace than the walking they had been doing was generally agreed and the ponies set to a bouncing trot which Bilbo found damnably uncomfortable but which ate up the ground in front of them. Gandalf called a halt at midday and they stopped to sleep, eat and rest the ponies. The rest was short lived and sooner than Bilbo would have liked they had to mount up again and ride onwards, still clinging closer to the trees. When the sun started heading towards the Misty Mountains, casting huge jagged shadows as it passed behind them, the company did not stop to make camp, instead they pushed onwards.

Their everpresent bear shadow did not seem to be following them any longer and Bilbo could only hope that it was because Beorn was dealing with Azog. At night, when he wasn't worrying more about being eaten by wargs, the woods to their left looked a lot more imposing and he suddenly remembered that he'd heard Radagast mention something about before the wargs had attacked the first time - giant spiders. He wasn't afraid of spiders usually, they were just another part of nature and useful for catching flies, but the thought of giant ones was less than comforting. He found himself looking deeper into the trees, worrying about spotting one but eventually he became too tired to care unless they were under attack from them.

They didn't stop at all through the night, although they dismounted several times to walk to the ponies. By the time the sun rose again Bilbo was half asleep on his pony and listing ever so slightly to one side - Bofur, who was riding next to him, would shove him back upright if he ever went a bit to far sideways. He wasn't the only one, Dori and Nori were doing a better job of keeping Ori balanced but the young scribe was just as tired as the hobbit and the rest of the company appeared to be conducting a yawning competition.

"We can't keep pushing 'em like this," Dwalin said, riding next to Thorin, "half of 'em wouldn't wake up if we bwere/b attacked and the little burglar is about to fall off his pony."

Thorin agreed and drew the company to a halt. Sluggishly they made camp and were mostly too tired and stiff to even bother eating before the bedding rolls were broken out and everybody save Gandalf - who didn't seem at all tired - went to sleep. Gandalf looked over the fourteen sleeping figures, this quest was far off the mark he'd intended already and it would only get further so. Certainly he'd intended to give the son of one of his favourite pupils an adventure, surely nobody could have a mother like Belladonna Took and grow up so wholly unadventurous, but this was a little further than he'd intended it to go. Still, what had been started could not stop.

They were all roused in the mid-afternoon, Gandalf having allowed them to sleep as much as possible, and after a short meal that was neither lunch nor dinner nor breakfast but became all three combined they mounted up onto the very well refreshed ponies and trotted onwards.

Once again the dying sun appeared to be eaten by the great jagged teeth of the mountain and the ponies became unusually skittish, sticking together in one group rather than strung out in a line no matter what their riders were attempting to urge them to do. The bridles the ponies were wearing had no bits and the dwarves attempts to get the ponies to move into a line simply by using their legs was not working so there were an awful lot of banged shins and accidental elbowing. Quite what was making the ponies skittish they didn't know until the last rays of the sun had been replaced with the dark of the night, still lit up by the waning moon, and the first bone chilling howl of a warg could be heard.

Far too close behind them, no longer off to the side.

The ponies bolted. Dwarf, hobbit and wizard alike clinging for dear life on to the reins of their ponies. Kili, whose pony was at the back of the herd, risked a look behind them and sure enough, the dark shapes of wargs had broken from the tree-line a few miles behind them and were racing towards them.

"Wargs," he called, though the rush of wind and the thunder of hooves on the ground threatened to steal his words away.

Bilbo gripped the reins even harder, until he could feel his nails bite into his palms, and squeezed his eyes shut - the pony was just as afraid of the wargs as he was, it would take him in any direction that was opposite to one a warg was coming from, all he had to do was stay on it and not be sick.

The forest in front of them curved outwards and they'd intended on following the tree line around, but instead the ponies careened into the forest, no matter the amount of pulling on the right rein they did. The tight herd they'd maintained broke up as the ponies had to dodge nimbly around trees. The forest was dark, low branches smacked the heads and shoulders of the riders and Bilbo could have sworn he felt something sticky. Then he wasn't moving forward any more and he had to open his eyes. In front of him were the ruins of a castle, the woods had fallen away behind him. Instead his pony was turning in frantic circles and, at the cries from its fellows in the distance, it reared up and Bilbo rolled head over furry heels over his pack and onto the ground.

When he got to his feet the pony had already disappeared with his pack into the forest, back northwards. The ring around his neck felt heavy and he began to feel quite strange as, without his particular will, his feet began taking stumbling steps towards the ruined castle, eerie and blue in the moonlight with dark shadows which flickered unnaturally. There was a ringing in his ears, a piercing whine that caused him to clap his hands over his ears but it didn't stop. Another faltering step towards the single bridge into the ruin. Tremendous pressure inside his head. Another step forwards.

A shrill neigh from behind him broke whatever it was that had ahold of him and he turned around to find Thorin on his pony, though the poor creature was prancing in anxiety with its eyes rolling white in its head.

"Come on," Thorin said and Bilbo ran, knees nearly buckling under him, to the pony. One strong arm hauled him upwards and he found himself wedged between Thorin's pack and Thorin as the pony was turned away from the ruin and began to move quickly between the trees, this time in the right direction. Bilbo found himself shaking, even as he clung on to Thorin and his face ended up mashed into the fur of the dwarf's coat, even as the ring grew lighter until it seemed no more of a burden than it had been when he'd first picked it up.

There were wargs right behind them, Thorin only had one hand on the reins and the other had unsheathed Orcrist. The pony seemed to be the one directing them between the trees and Bilbo thought he saw, when he sat a little more upright, a warg with an orc rider crash into a tree as the pony dodged around it. Bilbo could feel the sweat pouring off the animal as it exerted itself and they broke free of the treeline. Too soon, too close, the wargs broke from the trees behind them and the pony seemed to somehow step it up a gear as if it hadn't been running for most of the night.

He couldn't see around Thorin to see if the rest of the company had made it away safely in front of them. He did not dare to try and draw his sword, which had miraculously stayed in its sheath when he fell, to try and defend them, he'd only end up hurting the pony. The chase slowed a little, all of the animals had been running all night and the wargs likely for longer, and Bilbo thanked Beorn again for giving them mounts such as this one.

It was only when the sound of squealing orcs and yelping wargs could be heard behind him that he looked up, he could see the corpses of some of the wargs and the orcs even as they passed into the distance. Another volley of arrows flew overhead and most of their pursuers began falling back. Bilbo lent sideways enough to see around Thorin and in front of them, though a ways off by the river, stood a phlanx of elvish archers, huge bows drawn back with arrows on their strings ready to loose a third volley of arrows to discourage the more intrepid orcs. Still the pony kept on its charge until it came to the banks of the river where it stopped, sides heaving dramatically and sweat streaming down its body. Thorin allowed Bilbo to slither down off of the pony before he dismounted and removed the pack from it. Its legs were shaking worse than Bilbo's as the elves carefully led it on to the barge.

"Thank you," Bilbo said quietly to Thorin, when he found his voice, "for coming back for me, I mean."

"It wouldn't do to leave our hobbit in Mirkwood," Thorin said, "why were you heading for the ruin, if I may ask."

"I don't know," Bilbo said, shaken, "I don't think I was entirely myself, and not in a good way."

"You think it was the…" Thorin cut himself off, looking up at the four elves who were skilfully paddling them around a sharp corner and out of the fast flowing river into a tributary and two of the archers who had stepped on to the barge with them.

"I don't know," Bilbo said, "but I don't much like to think about what would have happened if you hadn't arrived when you did."

"I think we both owe our thanks to this brave girl here," Thorin said, patting the pony who had decided sailing wasn't for her and was laying down on the barge.

"She will be well looked after," one of the archers said, "before she is returned to Beorn."

Eventually they came to a halt at some sort of quay, though it appeared to simply have grown out of the bank, and Bilbo and Thorin were ushered off the boats. There, in a clearing not far from the dock, were the rest of the company save Gandalf. As soon as Thorin and Bilbo came into sight they were rushed by the rest of the dwarves demanding to know if they were well and what on earth had happened. Bofur even began patting Bilbo down to check for injuries until Bilbo assured him that apart from some bruises he was as well as he'd ever been – though that was not strictly true. Thorin described, if quite briefly, their little adventure but would not speak of where he had found Bilbo, since there were still elves around.

"And what happened to all of you?" Bilbo asked, when he could get a word in edgewise.

Fili and Kili took turns telling, or rather interrupted each other's telling of, the story. The wargs had left them behind, presumably to search out Thorin, and they'd gained a very reasonable headstart, reaching the banks of the Anduin just as the elven archers were departing their boats. None of them knew how the elves had known they were coming, but the general consensus was that Gandalf was the one who had done it.

"Ahh Thorin, and Bilbo," came the wizard's familiar voice as he re-joined the group, "I am glad to see that you made it here in one piece."

"We have things which we need to speak to you of, Gandalf," Thorin said.

"I shall be happy to listen," Gandalf said, "but first you are to meet the Lady of Lorien herself. Follow me."

Dutifully the company trotted after him and there was a collective groan at the sight of the huge, illuminated, spiral staircase leading up to a glowing bower.

* * *

**When I first wrote this at least half of it was completely unexpected. **

**Reviews are always appreciated.**


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